


Out in the Fields

by ThymeSprite



Series: Trio Challenge [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Healing, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThymeSprite/pseuds/ThymeSprite
Summary: A day out in the fields is just as depressing as all her life, her ghosts there to haunt her.But there is a chance to break free.





	Out in the Fields

Her eyes followed the heavy, thickly falling snowflakes, far too many to ever be counted, as they drifted down from the heavens past the bridge she was standing on until they were mercilessly pulled to the ground, sinking into oblivion. It was a long way. Dangerously so. 

Not for the first time was she standing there, looking down from the bridge. In spring, there was a spacious field below her, in summer grass scorched from the sun, in fall a dark marsh, but now, in the deepest winter, it was a vast, white nothingness, a void. There had been heavy snowfall over the last couple of days, but it was a long way down, the fluffy, cold pillow would by no means be thick enough to cushion her momentum if she was to fall - jump - from the bridge. 

Long seconds of free fall and then... Nothing. 

Balling her fists against the cold and her fear, she kept staring down, until the softest of noises behind her caught her attention. She gave a violent start and she quickly spun around, although she should not have needed to look. Of course it was him. 

“How long have you been standing there?”, she whispered, biting her lip and averting her eyes from the man a few steps behind her. She heard the crunch of his boots in the fallen snow as he moved closer, coming to a halt beside her, his hands in the pockets of his black coat, the collar propped up against the cold, but his short blonde hair glistening with melting snow. He could have been attractive, had it not been for the cold glint in his blue eyes. And the sharp steel-edge of his voice as he replied: “Long enough to know you’re still a coward.” 

That felt like a knife to the chest, always had. Probably always would. Yet she tightened her fists until it was already painful and spoke through gritted teeth: “You’re not here, you are just in my head.” 

Closing her eyes, she stressed every syllable: “You are not real.” 

“Of course I am.”, her curtly, yet almost nonchalantly said, “Being in your head does not make me any less real. I am here.” 

He could not be, he just could not... 

“And I always will be.” 

A sob was wrenched from her throat, born from despair she could no longer fight. She had tried so hard and had only failed yet again, he was proof of that. He was here. 

“So, what’ll it be?”, he asked then, the grin audible in his dark, smooth voice as he leaned against the railing of the bridge, looking intently at her, “Will you just back away again like the coward you are? Or will you finally give me the show I have been waiting for?” 

She refused to look him in the eye for she knew that seeing him now, seeing the malevolent glint in his eyes would make her cry. Damn it, she was already crying but she did not have to show him blatantly. 

“Come on, darling.”, he urged, the endearing term thrown at her like acid, “Why wait? Another miserable day, another lonely night? Don’t get me wrong, I will be with you, I will always be there for you. But, seriously? Just get it over with. Do the world a favour.” 

She turned her face away from him, tried to ignore him, but she could not. Her hands were shaking, her breath ragged and her heart beating far too desperately. Maybe he was right... 

The sharp cry of a crow frightened her and made her look up, following the black dot in the twirling snow as it flew across the field beneath them. 

“What, are you into augury now?”, he sneered, his dark chuckle like tiny cuts from a razor blade all over her crawling skin, “Don’t bother, I can tell you exactly what that crow means for you.” 

She did not want to hear it, but she knew she would have to. Until she saw in the raven’s flight path a deer, doing her best to wade through the deep snow, her gait slowed down almost to a crawl. 

“Or, if you are into symbols, that deer is also a grand example.”, he told her, showing her that he too had spotted the animal out there in the field. 

“She’s trying so hard.”, he spoke, with mock pity in his voice and a pout bare every emotion but malice, “The whole world is against her, she fails even though she tries so, so hard. Remind you of anyone?” 

She was trembling, with both fear and anger, but she did not reply, did not find the strength in her to say anything. She was barely able to ball her fists by now. 

“She makes me think of you.”, he then supplied and chuckled, “Oh, look. Especially now.” 

Following his gaze, a gloating grin on his face, she spotted another black form out in the field, below the raven and not far from the deer. 

It was a wolf. He, too, was struggling against the snow, but he made fast progress gaining on her and soon, she knew, he would have reached the deer. 

“She doesn’t even have a clue he’s there.”, the man beside her commented, then laughed darkly, “So, you actually know more than someone else for a change.” 

As she closed her eyes, just for a moment to arm herself against his malevolence, she shed a tear, could not help it any longer. 

“Ah, no matter, she’ll know soon enough that he’s there.”, the man then shrugged, “And then she’ll be finally dead. Stone dead. Then she’ll know more than you.” 

Her stomach churned and she grabbed the railing for support, fearing what would come, knowing that it was inevitable. Yet nausea overwhelmed her when the wolf pounced, burying his teeth deep into the deer’s hide. Blood spattered the snow, befouling its white perfection. The deer fought, her agonised cry carried over the field to her ears, wrenching another sob from her. 

“Finally.”, he growled with satisfaction as he watched the deer’s death throes. 

But she broke free. 

In utter disbelief, she watched from the bridge as the deer threw off the wolf, kicked the predator in the muzzle so that now his agonised howl echoed over the snowy field while she jumped away. Out of his reach. 

“What the...?!”, the man behind her asked, but she pushed away from the railing and, relaxing her hands and with a sideways glance at him, she told him: “You do not matter anymore.” 

Having spoken these words, she turned away from him and started walking, finally crossing the bridge. 

“Come back here!”, he ordered, his voice shrill and for the first time, she heard a hint of despair in his voice, but hers was steady as she replied just one word, “No.” 

When she had crossed the bridge, she knew he had vanished into thin air, he was gone. And for the first time in many long, long years, she smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompts for this story were the following:
> 
> Location: A bridge  
> Sentence: "How long have you been standing there?"  
> Bonus: A wolf


End file.
